


Condolences

by TheDreamingFangirl



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 06:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDreamingFangirl/pseuds/TheDreamingFangirl
Summary: (One Shot)Jaune took in a breath and exhaled. Okay, he thought to himself, you can do this.Set after the death of Pyrrha Nikos, Jaune's goes to Pyrrha's home and brings a gift to a grieving couple, but what he doesn't know is that they have a gift for him as well.





	Condolences

Jaune took in a breath, and he exhaled. Okay _,_ he thought to himself, you can do this. He fingered the circlet in his hands, and he adjusted a white box under his arm. He stretched his free arm out towards the door, and he groaned as he felt it become heavy. He tried to turn the extended hand into a fist; however, before it could touch the door, his arm dropped back to his side and he let out a curse.

Jaune’s heart dropped and it wasn’t long before he yelled, “Come on! It’s just a door. Hurry up and knock already!” His vision became cloudy, and he lifted his head blinking the tears away. He breathed again, and with the last inhale, he moved his hand towards the door and knocked three times.

For a moment, there was stillness. The birds chattered, flittering from one place to another. The breeze was small, and as the young man stared at the home’s front-yard, the last of the autumn leaves floated past him until, at long last, they were out of view. He adjusted his scarf, and he let out another breath. All things considered, this was just another autumn day.

He turned back; however, before he could knock again, the door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman.

Her hair was slightly disheveled, and her eyes went wide as she said, “Hello?”

Jaune waved, “Hello, Mrs. Nikos.”

He forced a smile, and it wasn’t long before the woman invited him inside.

The house smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, and the young man felt his body relax as warmth seemed to seep through his clothes. The woman pointed him towards his right side, and it revealed a coat-rack. The coats were thrown here and there onto the various pegs, and as Jaune looked down to the floor, he saw that the shoes were thrown in a similar fashion. That said, of all the details that he observed there, the one that stuck out the most was the fact that, along both areas, there was one space completely empty.

Mrs. Nikos said, “Take your coat off. Stay a while.”

Jaune followed the woman’s instructions, and it was not long before both the young man’s coat and scarf were off. He put the circlet and the box down onto the floor, but when he moved to place his coat on the empty hook, a voice stopped him.

“Wait.”

The voice revealed a large man. He stood on the top of the stairs, adding to his substantial presence; however, as Jaune looked closer at him, his breathing was ragged, and the man seemed to wither with each exhale that he took. He spoke again.

“Pyrrha always hangs her coat there.” He stood up straight and said, “Please use one of my hooks.”

Mrs. Nikos began to speak, “Dear-“

The man said, “Please.”

The young man nodded and placed his coat onto one of the man’s hooks. He picked up the circlet and the box again and proceeded up the stairs. Jaune stretched out his hand and said, “So, you’re Mr. Nikos?”

The man nodded, “That’s me.” He took a hold of the hand in front of him.

“I’m Jaune.”

The two shook hands, and it was the older man who spoke first, “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.” His face turned into a small smile, “Pyrrha’s told me so much about you.”

“Oh, did she?” Jaune fought the urge to look down, and he let out a nervous chuckle.

Mr. Nikos laughed, “All good things, I promise!” He let go of the hand and motioned the boy further inside the house, “Would you care for some tea and baklava[1]?”

Jaune said, “Sure. That sounds great.”

Mr. Nikos was light on his feet and it was not long before he disappeared into the kitchen. Mrs. Nikos tapped the young man on the shoulder and said, “Follow me.”

The two walked through the hall to a living room area. The fireplace was lit, and Jaune felt multiple flashes of light hit his eyes. He looked closer towards the sources and he observed that most of them were hung on the walls.

Around the room, he saw photographs of happier days. He saw the image of a wedding and a young couple at the altar. He found a photo of that same couple cradling their first child. The pictures were placed in no chronological order; however, as he walked around the room, he felt the breath of each memory. He saw the surprised joy of several birthdays, the careless days of summer, and the triumphant smile of every tournament victory and graduation. He kept moving, but upon seeing the latest photo, he stopped.

He stared at the image and he felt the breath catch in his throat. The picture was of team JNPR. The gang had managed to go get some ice-cream after a successful mission, and after figuring out who was to pay for what, they were all seated at a local bench. Everyone had lifted their cones, and Jaune held back a giggle at the sight of Nora’s watermelon sherbet piled high to the sky. He looked down at the frame, and, written in clear letters, it said, _‘MY FRIENDS’_. He blinked away the tears that threatened to well up, and he moved his eyes towards the bookshelves.

The bookshelves were lined with trophies as far as the eye could see. They ranged in size, and some were shaped in medals or plaques; however, the light of the fireplace left no doubt as to which color each medal was: a beautiful gold. The inscriptions varied from medal to medal, and as he glanced at each one, he was not surprised when he found just as many scholastic awards as there had been athletic ones.

He sat himself down on one of the couches, and he set each of the items down beside him on the floor. On the young man’s left side, there stood a small table with a lamp. He pointed to it and said to the lady, “May I turn this on?”

She nodded and said, “Of course.”

He turned on the light, and resting alongside the table, he found a box filled with mail. Each envelope was open, though from what he could see, most of these notes consisted of cards. He stopped as his eyes fell upon an open note. The letters were in all capital letters, and as the young man read each red word, Jaune felt his blood begin to boil.

Coupled with their legibility, the words, ‘ _YOUR DAUGHTER IS A MURDERER._ ’, were as clear as a freshly cleaned mirror. Jaune’s hands shifted into fists, as he wondered how someone could be so insensitive. He picked up the offending document and asked, “Do you get these often?”

He placed the note in front of Mrs. Nikos. For a moment, her face twisted in pain, and it was not long before she exhaled, “We get them now and again, but they don’t show up as often as you think.” Her voice was soft, “I know Pyrrha would have never done something like that on purpose.”

Jaune said, “Of course.” He crumpled the paper in his hands and shoved it into one of his pockets. He looked across to the circlet and the box before he nodded to himself. It was time. He reached for the items; however, he stopped when he felt the soft thud of a cup touch the table in front of him. He turned to see Mr. Nikos placing a cup of tea in front of his wife, who mouthed a silent ‘Thank you’.

Mr. Nikos placed the baklava onto the table and asked, “How do you like your tea?”

The aroma of the tea tickled the top of Jaune’s nose. He said, “Hmm.” Earl-grey. The young man answered, “Just some milk and sugar will be enough.”

Mr. Nikos was quick with providing the young man with what he asked, and after fetching the amount of baklava that he himself wanted, he sat with his wife across from Jaune. He took a sip from his tea and asked, “Have you let your parents know you’re okay?”

Jaune nodded, “Yes, I have.”

“That’s good.” He took a sip out of his tea before he said, “Where’s the rest of your team?”

“They are staying over at my sister, Cosette’s, place. I told them I wanted to come here alone.” Jaune took a sip of his tea and looked down to the table once again.

The man said, “I see.” Mr. Nikos set his tea down and asked, “I sense you are here for more than just a social visit. How can we help you?”

Jaune took in a breath, and he let out an audible exhale before he said, “I came to give you guys these.” He reached for the circlet and the white box, and he placed the items onto the table.

The couple was quick to reach for the items, and as they opened the white box, their eyes became misty at the contents inside. Out of the two of them, it was the mother who spoke first. Her voice cracked as she began to speak, “This is-“

She picked up the shield and she passed it towards her husband. He took his time with the object, and as they began to run the fingers along the metal, Mr. Nikos said, “Hello, Akoúo̱[2].”

Reluctantly, they placed the shield onto the table, and it was not long before Mr. Nikos said, “I can’t believe there’s barely any dents on it.”

His wife said, “There’s plenty of them, dear. They’re just small.”

“Oh.”

They turned their attention back towards the box once more, and as Mrs. Nikos took hold of one of the metal shards, her voice croaked, “Oh, Miló[3]…”

She showed the piece to her husband. He hugged her, and it was not long before she started to cry. She buried herself into the man’s chest, and Jaune watched as the woman broke into a muffled sob. Mr. Nikos pulled the woman closer into his arms, and he placed his chin on top of her head. He rubbed her back, and Jaune felt the whispers of words he could not overhear.

When the sobbing died down, Mr. Nikos kissed the top of his wife’s head. She wiped her eyes and mouthed a silent, ‘I love you.’

He briefly kissed her lips, and said, “I love you too.”

After that, there was a moment of stillness. Jaune looked down towards the floor, and he hugged his arms close to his chest. His eyes misted over, and whether it was from guilt or from his own pain, he did not dare to raise his head until a voice called for his attention.

“Hey.”

Jaune looked up to older man, and he felt his vision become blurrier as Mr. Nikos said, “Thank you.”

Jaune shook his head, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to bring back anything more than this.” He took in a breath and thought, they deserve more than a broken set of weapons and some apologetic words.

Mr. Nikos said, “You did the best that you could. That’s what matters.” He looked down towards the young man’s plate, “You’ve barely touched your baklava.”

“Oh.” Jaune took a bite from the pastry, and though the dish was indeed delicious, he put the treat down again once more.

Mrs. Nikos said, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s,” Jaune let out an exhale, “It’s just a little too sweet for me right now. Thank you.” He took a sip of his tea, and he looked down once more.

Silence filled the halls, but it was not long before it was broken by the sound of a clock.

Ding-dong-dong-ding.

Ding-dong-dong-ding.

Ding!

Ding!

The young man took in a breath, and his words came out as a blurb, “I’msorry.”

The couple looked to one another and asked, “For what?”

“I should’ve done more. I should’ve seen-“ Jaune felt tears begin to fall down his face. He put his hands up to his eyes, but the more the young man tried to blink his tears away, he found more tears trickled out to take their place. His voice croaked, “Why couldn’t I have been stronger?”

He audibly inhaled, and finally, he began to sob. His back curled, and his eyes touched his knees. He tried to speak, but the only words that he could say were, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He sobbed more, and as the young man continued to cry, he repeated those words like a mantra.

He felt the outside world close in around him, and his vision went black. His body went rigid, and it was not long before he felt a hand on each of his shoulders. He inhaled, and as he rose from his slumped position, he opened his eyes.

Mr. and Mrs. Nikos wiped their eyes and said, “Pyrrha’s death was not your fault.”

Jaune felt the cloudiness creep back again. His throat was hoarse, and he was now too tired to speak.

Mrs. Nikos said, “Stay there for a second.” She rose from her seat and moved down one of the hallways.

The two gentlemen sat themselves back onto their respective couches, and it was not long before the sound of footsteps made their way back through the halls once more. Mrs. Nikos returned to the living-room, and in her arms, she carried a shoe-box, and she set it down onto the table. She looked to the young man and said, “Go ahead and open it.”

The shoe-box revealed a stack of letter envelopes. Each one of them was torn into, showing off their stationary innards, and Jaune’s breath caught when he recognized the calligraphy written on the front.

‘ _Mom and Dad_

_72 Fig Str._

_Cottage, Ant Clover 89527._ ’

 

Jaune touched the envelopes gingerly, but he did not dare to glance at the letter’s contents. He asked, “Why are you showing me this?”

Mrs. Nikos responded, “Pyrrha has always been good about keeping in contact with us: whether it was through letters, emails, and plenty of phone calls. She spoke of you guys quite often during this last semester, but throughout all our conversations, in every single one of her letters, she spoke of you the most. You saw the pictures, didn’t you?”

Jaune nodded.

“Was there anything odd that you noticed?”

Jaune shook his head.

She said, “Why don’t you try looking again?”

He moved to the walls, and he stared at the pictures. In all the pictures that Pyrrha was in, she shined, and her face smiled at the camera. He looked closer. Huh? He blinked before he leaned in closer. That can’t be right.

He checked the pictures again and said, “There’s almost no one her age in these pictures with her.”

Mrs. Nikos nodded, “That’s correct.”

The couple rose up from their seats on the coach and walked towards the young man. The older gentleman said, “We have been looking forward to meeting you for some time, though under far different circumstances.”

“Huh?”

The man continued, “We wanted to thank you. You’ve done so much good for our daughter, and because of you, she has smiled more in this past semester than she had in over the past four years. Thanks to you, she finally had friends to call her own, so we wanted to say thank you and finally meet the young man who caught so much of our daughter’s interest.”

Jaune said, “I didn’t do anything that special.”

“Pyrrha thought you were special enough.” Mr. Nikos placed his cup of tea on the table and said, “Jaune, you did the best that you could, and I believe that Pyrrha- “. His breath was shaky. He inhaled before he said, “My daughter held no regrets when she chose to protect you that day.” He faced the floor, and he raised his left hand over his eyes.

Mrs. Nikos said, “Jaune, when Pyrrha decided to become a huntress, we always knew that this could happen. The life of a huntsman or a huntress can be cut short at any moment; whether at the hands of a Grimm, or just being unlucky and at the wrong place at the wrong time.” She gestured to her husband. He took her hand and held her close to his chest before she continued, “No amount of training could have prepared us for this. That said,” she gestured to the young man, “Come here.”

The couple raised their arms around the young man surrounding Jaune in a group hug. His vision went blurry again, and for a short minute, he went stiff, but it was not long before his arms went up around them too. Mrs. Nikos said, “Just let it out.”

He felt the tears begin to fall again, and Jaune’s arms squeezed tighter around the couple as he began to sob. He cried and cried, and when he felt his throat become hoarse again, he cried some more. His nose became stuffy, and he felt the boogers wanting to fall, but he didn’t care. He felt his lungs begin to burn, and with each breath that he took, the sobs just kept coming and he cried more. Finally, he felt his breath begin to even out; his energy was spent.

He looked up towards the couple once more, and they gave him a small smile. Mr. Nikos said, “Would you like a tissue?”

Jaune snorted and nodded his head. He blew his nose and rubbed the tears away from his eyes before he looked to the couple once again.

Mr. Nikos said, “While Pyrrha may not be around anymore, she still lives on in each of us.” He pointed towards his heart and said, “In me.”

He pointed towards Mrs. Nikos’s heart and said, “In Adobe[4].”

“And most importantly,” he pointed towards Jaune’s heart and said, “in you.”

“While these are not the circumstances with which we wanted to meet, I’m still glad that we did.” Mr. Nikos placed a hand upon the young man’s shoulder and let him go from the embrace.

Mrs. Nikos said, “You and your friends are always welcome here.”

Jaune said, “Thank you. I promise I will get the one who did this. Cinder will pay for what she’s done. I promise.”

Mrs. Nikos looked to her husband. They shared a glance and she pointed her head towards the table. He nodded.

Mrs. Nikos moved towards the table. She said, “Jaune-”

The young man turned his body and found the woman holding the circlet and the box in her hands. She passed it to him and said, “These will be of help to you if you take them to a blacksmith. They are all made from some of the finest metals out there. I have no doubt that these will help your steel be sharper and your armor will last a lot longer.”

He said, “I can’t accept this-“

“We would be honored if you would take them.”

Jaune turned to Mr. Nikos and asked, “And you’re sure this is alright?”

He nodded and said, “Yes, just one more thing.” He took a hold of the circlet and began to unscrew two areas where green jewels used to be. He put the small gems in the palm of his hand and said, “These will make good necklaces.” He moved his hand to his pocket and handed the circlet back to Jaune.

The young man felt his breath catch, and he said, “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Mrs. Nikos nodded, “Just be safe.”

The clock struck once more.

Ding-dong-dong-ding.

Ding-dong-dong-ding.

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

Holy crap, Jaune thought to himself, is that the time? He said, “I’m afraid I have to get going. Cosette’s making dinner tonight, and if I don’t hurry, I’ll be late.” He held his hand out, “It was nice to meet both of you.”

They both shook his hand and said, “Likewise.”

The mother said, “Make sure you stay in touch.”

“Of course.” He headed towards the door, and he grabbed his coat and his scarf. Once he was successful with getting them back on, he said, “Thank you again for your hospitality.”

The older gentleman said, “You and your friends can drop by anytime.”

“Thank you, sir.” He headed out the door and closed it behind him; however, it was not long before Jaune heard the voice of Mrs. Nikos once more.

“Dear?”

The sobbing of a man broke through the Nikos family home. It muffled itself, and it was not long before the noise was gone. Mrs. Nikos said, “Shhhhh. Everything’s going to be alright, dear.” Her voice began to crack, “I miss her too.”

Jaune looked at the circlet in his hands, and after a moment of hesitation, he took in a deep breath and moved away from the door. He walked out of the driveway and headed for home. He fingered the circlet in his hands again, but the only thing his eyes felt comfortable staring at was the ground. He felt like a crook; Pyrrha’s parents were supposed to have this, not him! Where was he supposed to find a blacksmith anyway?

It’s possible he may have stayed like this throughout the whole of his trip, had his attention not been caught by the humming of a scroll.

Vrrrrrm! Vrrrrrm!

He pulled his scroll out from his pocket, and he pressed the answer button. “Ruby?”

“Jaune, I need your help.”

* * *

Author's Notes

[1] Since Pyrrha is so thoroughly inspired with Greco-Roman elements, I decided to add some Greco-Roman elements to her backstory. Baklava is a pastry made from phylo-dough, honey and nuts (essentially). It’s delicious, and I definitely recommend it for anyone who hasn’t tried it.

[2] Akoúo̱ is the name given to Pyrrha’s shield by Monty. No. I did not make this up.

[3] Miló is the name given to Pyrrha’s sword/rifle/spear by Monty as well.

[4] I named Pyrrha’s mother, Adobe, as a reference to Achilles. Peleus, Achilles’s father in the original story, ‘s name broken down translates to ‘clay’, so I decided to name Pyrrha’s mother after another form of clay. In this case, Adobe.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, that took longer than I thought it would! 
> 
> This is my second one-shot. Feel free to write reviews or comment below because, as always, I want to know what you guys think. Have a wonderful day!


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